


Third Time's the Charm

by acuteneurosis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Arranged Marriage, Assassination, F/M, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Paranoia, Slow Burn, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acuteneurosis/pseuds/acuteneurosis
Summary: It's not a surprise that as the only daughter of a wealthy merchant family, Toph Beifong would someday be offered up on the altar of matrimony. For more wealth, for a noble title, for the good of the family. She'd just planned to run away first. And she definitely didn't expect this mess.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Iroh, Toph Beifong & Zuko's Crew, Toph Beifong/Zuko, Zuko & Zuko's Crew (Avatar)
Comments: 100
Kudos: 385





	1. Chapter 1

Lieutenant Jee approached the general as quietly as he could, watching the ship up shore starting to dock. “Looks like they’re here, sir.”

“Have you seen my nephew?” The general’s eyes were also on the ship, his expression particularly grim. Jee could hear the wood of the other vessel creaking as its crew bustled, laying anchor and possibly…sweeping the deck?

Earth Kingdom merchants. Typical.

“At the stern, sir, last I checked.”

“Which was?” General Iroh was unusually terse, but Jee couldn’t blame him. Everyone on board was tense today.

“Fifteen minutes ago, sir. Had a spyglass, was watching the ship come in.”

It was a carefully gentler tone the general used to ask, “Did he say anything?”

“No.”

“Ah, well.”

Shifting slightly, Jee asked, “You mentioned he was going to meditate after breakfast?”

“He did,” General Iroh confirmed, taking a half second to let his eyes find Jee before focusing again on the other ship. It looked like the actual passengers were being brought up. A man and two women, one almost tripping with each step, Jee thought. He almost missed General Iroh’s, “A slow, steady burn, down to a stub. On all thirty of the candles,” he added so dryly Jee wouldn’t have been surprised if the air around them combusted.

“At once?” Mostly likely, but he had to know.

“Oh yes, captain. Most certainly at once.” And then General Iroh added, “But not the two memorial ones.”

Right. Those. The prince kept them with the meditation ones. Spirits, the boy was crazy.

“Should we start disembarking?” Jee asked, knowing it was really the prince he should be asking. Also knowing it was probably the general who was going to make any of this happen smoothly. The prince was far too paranoid…

“Let me check with my nephew,” General Iroh said, starting to turn. “He may wish to wait until—“

There was a loud splash and a woman’s scream. Jee and General Iroh threw themselves against the rail, spotting the ripples in the water at the same time. Just as they heard a splash from the stern.

“It would seem,” General Iroh said, moving quickly towards the bow, “that it is time for us to head to shore.”

“I’ll get the medic,” Jee said, half running for the stairs.

This was not an auspicious start.

* * *

Drowning sucked.

Toph had accepted that might be the case when she’d found the edge of the ship. She wasn’t thrilled about it, but she wasn’t thrilled about being offered up as a fancy doll either. Some things, you just had to take into your own hands.

She probably shouldn’t be holding her breath, she thought as she thrashed. The thrashing was instinct. And useless. Especially in this dress. She should just open her mouth and—

Something— _someone_ —grabbed her. From behind. Had she gotten turned around? Had they already found her?

Dammit, she had to—

Choking also sucked. Swallowing water instead of air, the thick weight of the water pulling her down as something clamped around her stomach, dragging her. All of this, all of this sucked. Everything everywhere _sucked_.

They hit the surface. Toph felt it on the top of her head, but kept hanging limp, her face in the water. She had to—

The arm around her waist tightened, heaved. Her head broke the water and landed on something solid, something warm. Something swearing like a sore loser after a rumble.

If she hadn’t been retching water all over it, she might have laughed.

“Prince Zuko!” someone called, but the voice in her ear didn’t respond. Just kept swearing as she scrabbled violently, hoping it looked, felt panicked. Not deliberate. He had to drop her.

They sank twice more as they moved through the water. Only for a brief second before he dragged them up again, and the last time Toph gave up. She’d wasted her chance. So she hung on her rescuer’s arm, pinned against him, and made sure to vomit all over his shoulder when he started hauling them out of the water and onto—

Wood. Not as smooth as the ship deck, probably the dock, Toph thought as she retched and retched and retched, feeling the wind break and the slight warmth of people crowding around. There were professional voices, stern voices, the crying voice of her mother (she didn’t _get_ to cry, she hadn’t _helped_ ), and coughing not too far from Toph’s head.

“Just give us a few hours,” her father was saying. “Let her rest, we’ll get her cleaned up.”

“No.” Everything quieted at that voice. Even Toph stilled, feeling the threat of that one word, the crackle of it. “Give her a blanket. Get her up. You’re signing for her and the ceremony’s short. We have twenty minutes and we need to be gone.”

“Prince Zuko,” her father was half babbling, half stern. “Surely you don’t have any other urgent matters to see to toda—“

“We agreed to meet on Earth Kingdom ground so you could avoid problems,” the prince seemed to be spitting words out. Of all the warm bodies around her, Toph felt his like a hot rock, baked all day in the sun. “We can’t stay here long. I won’t endanger my men.”

“O—of course.”

It was Toph’s mother that wrapped her in a blanket, whispering and crying into Toph’s ear as she tried to lead her daughter along. The wooden dock would have been bad enough, but these _damn shoes_ squelching on her feet made every step slick and off balance. They hadn’t made it far at all before that sun baked arm was around Toph’s waist, bracing her as she was almost dragged to…somewhere down the dock.

Couldn’t have taken her to proper _land_ could they?

There was the crinkle of papers and the hot spot next to Toph moved, almost dumping her onto her mother. Some mumbling Toph didn’t track, noises like things being moved, maybe ceramics?

“I need your hand,” the spark voice said, before burning fingers touched hers. “This may hurt.”

He projected his movements well, she thought as he turned her hand palm up, ran his thumb just under her fingers, placed a knife along the line he’d traced, made a quick, shallow cut.

It was tempting to say, “Ow,” just to break the solemnity around them. But Toph wasn’t speaking where her parents could hear it. She’d already promised herself.

“For strength, for honor, by the will of Agni,” he almost sounded like he was choking on that name. There were other words, but Toph didn’t follow them. Didn’t scream or even flinch when he dragged his thumb over the cut, the movement slick with blood. Did half gasp when his mouth touched hers, sticky, wet, and hot. “Now child of Fire, by breath and by blood.”

There was a mumbled, “—this _necessary_?” and a grunt with a soft thud.

A small cup was pressed into her hand. She had the impulse to drop it, or even throw it, but either he guessed, or he had _no idea_ that she knew where her own mouth was, because fire fingers held the hand with the cup and guided it to her mouth.

The alcohol was bitter as she sipped. Once, twice, three times. Ugh.

“We’re done. If she has any things to take with her, just bring them here. My men will load them.”

“That was fast,” someone muttered. He sounded familiar, like one of the men from her father’s ship.

“The core of the marriage ceremony is a promise before Agni and mortal witnesses,” the voice explaining wasn’t exactly cheerful, but there was a happy menace to it. “The sun is high, so Agni sees us, and we are present. It is enough.”

“As long as it’s binding,” Toph’s father said. “Your father said—“

“He’ll keep his word, whatever he told you. To the exact letter.”

There was a hint of spite in that sparking voice now. If she hadn’t been shivering and blind, Toph might have wondered about it.

Oh, and _married._

“You said she’s an earthbender?” the question was seeking confirmation, but he could have asked her. She was _right here_.

Not that she would have _answered_.

“Yes, Prince Zuko.”

“How much earth does she need on board to stay stable while she’s traveling?”

“She—what?”

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of something almost hissing as the warm body in front of her _shimmered_ with heat. “For her bending. To avoid element deprivation. How much stone do you carry?”

If she could have, Toph would have laughed at the uncomfortable sounds her father was making. It was almost funny. Almost.

Her legs throbbed under the cloth and cords.

“Never mind,” the prince snapped. Then, away from her, “Grab those and bring them on board. We can dump some if she doesn’t need that many.” Then, that hot hand suddenly grabbing her elbow, “Are you ready?”

She couldn’t answer. The answer was no, absolutely no, never, never, never, _never_.

But they’d already moved past that point. She wasn’t going to be able to throw herself off the dock and get away. There should be a beach close, with loose rocks or sand. She could almost feel it, hazy and distant. But she wouldn’t get there without being caught. Wouldn’t scramble and crawl like a _baby_ trying to get off the dock.

So she didn’t answer, but she did let him start leading her away.

“Toph?” her mother’s voice trembled. Strained. “It—It’ll be okay.”

That didn’t deserve an answer. It didn’t get one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just start another fic? Yes. Did I really pick this trope and pairing? I couldn't resist. Should I be left alone with a computer for any period of time? Probably not.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything still sucked. Toph shivered as she half shuffled and was half dragged across the dock, the shrieks from her mother and complaints from her father barely registering past the heat that seemed to flicker through the fingers and arm that supported her, wrapped around her back and arms, warmth seeping through the blanket.

The ramp they went up seemed solid as she slid up, like it was all one piece. The ship too didn’t have the slight almost give she had come to expect from wood.

And the clanging…was the whole ship metal?

She tried pressing her feet as flat as she could, not quite stomping them but trying to test the vibrations. No good. There might be something there, but it wasn’t making it through the soles of these _damned shoes_.

And why were they just _standing_?

“Sir, we’ve moved the rocks and her trunks up. Anything else?”

“Bandage,” her escort said. “And ask Uncle if he’s planning on making tea.”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted some,” that almost cheerful voice responded, solid and steady. “Why don’t you take her up while I start preparing it? I’ll come find you when it’s ready.”

The sound of a movement near her head, maybe a nod. “Can you make sure we leave in the next ten minutes?”

“Yes, I will see to that first. Now get her upstairs. She can’t be comfortable in her wet things.”

Maybe, but Toph sure as bedrock wasn’t going to be comfortable _out_ of them.

But apparently that didn’t bother the prince. He didn’t say anything else as he started dragging her along again, not until they got to some stairs where he said, “Each step is two handspans high. Can you find them?”

There wasn’t any inflection to the question. No pity, no judgement. Just simple inquiry, yes or no. Toph tested his measure, not sure if she kept bumping her toes into steel because their concept of hands was too different, or if he was just bad at this.

Maybe both.

After two false movements, Toph just dragged her toes forward and up, tracing each stair and finding the top as they went. It was slow, but he didn’t complain. He did move into her space, letting people pass, once or twice. That was awful.

After more stairs than her wet, cloth smothered toes ever wanted to see again, they started walking down a hallway and then he turned them, probably into a room by the new echoes. He shuffled her sideways and helped her find a seat on the floor.

Which was a relief.

Everything _was_ metal that was the ship. When her fingers touched it she could almost make out the intermittent echo of vibrations that would have told her exactly where she was. Fuzzy, but better than nothing. She could track that he was moving not just by sound, although she wouldn’t put any money on the precision.

A glimmer in her senses said there were rocks in the room. Real ones. But not close enough for her to just reach out and touch.

“Here, let me get your hand.”

He’d made an effort to not sound like a complete bully, she thought. But she didn’t give him her hand, just pulled her fingers into fists. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt.”

Much. Squeezing it twinged.

“We should cover it,” he insisted, shuffling closer and brining warmth with him. “So it doesn’t get infected.”

She shook her head. “It’s a scratch.”

“It’s _not_.”

The tone made her pull her fists in against her stomach, leaning over them to keep them away from him. “No.”

She could feel the air crackling as he breathed. “Fine.” And then, “Do you need help getting out of your dress?”

“ _No!_ ” she didn’t shout, but she wasn’t leaving this up for interpretation. “I’m fine.”

“You’re soaking wet,” he objected. “You’re going to have to change at some point. I can get one of the female officers to help, if you’d prefer, but if you don’t put on something dry you might get sick.”

There was a silent, “And that would be inconvenient,” tacked on, so clear even Toph could pick it out. And she barely knew the guy. “You have female officers?”

“Not many,” the prince said. “Only two on this ship. Do you want them?”

“No,” Toph said, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “I’ll change later. When I’m less wet.”

She’d been dressing herself for years. Once she knew there her clothes were, she’d get herself sorted out.

The noise he made was almost like a growl, and Toph giggled. It was like a badgermole.

He froze. She could feel his complete stillness, couldn’t even hear him breathing.

“What’s so funny?”

She shrugged. It wasn’t anymore.

More thick, slow breaths. “Can I please at least clean your hand?” There was a tension to the words. He wasn’t used to asking, she thought.

But he was being pretty insistent. “It’s just blood.”

“ _Yes_ ,” he was hissing again. “Please.”

Well, if he was gonna be this weird about it. “Fine.”

It didn’t take long for him to wipe the blood off, and she even allowed him, once he was done, to treat and wrap it. It had started stinging some more as he’d cleaned it.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked when he was done, as though this had been her idea.

She scratched at her feet, off to her side. She could feel the silt from the water caught in the fabric of the shoes they’d tied on. Its earthiness was comforting, but it itched pretty bad. “Get these off,” she suggested, half joking.

Like he would—

“Okay,” and his fingers started trailing up the thick corded laces, from the top of her foot to her ankle, toward her shin. He hesitated there, and if Toph hadn’t been so surprised, maybe she would have made a comment or a joke. But she was silent and those slow, careful movements peeled back waterlogged skirt layers. Gentle pressure told her where he was tracing the cords wrapped and crossed around her legs, tied at various points along the way. “What the— Can I move you?“

She was startled enough that he’d asked, she said, “Sure.”

He shifted, sat she thought, pushed her left leg out of the way and pulled her right across his lap, pressure shifting and spiking around her throbbing muscles as his fingers tested the cords. “These are waterlogged. You want them off now, I’ll have to cut them.”

“Good.”

There was a hesitance before he added, “I’ll use a knife.”

“Yeah.” What else was there? His teeth?

She felt the press of the blade against her already swollen calf, gliding up towards her knee. Pressure broke in small, wet pops, and then the shoe was off, tossed to the side. Toph sighed, stretching and wiggling her toes, wincing as they cramped.

“Here, I can—Wait, no.” He pulled her other leg onto his lap, cut the ties, freed the toes. Toph stretched her legs on instinct, trying to work out the cramping. “I can help.”

She tilted her head. “Help what?”

“Your legs. They’re—“ he fumbled. “It’s not—The color— I can help them?”

His warm hand was hovering over her ankle and it felt nice. “Okay.”

“I’m going to touch you.”

“Yeah.”

“Up to about your knees.”

“As long as you’re helping, I won’t kick you.”

She’d been to enough healers to know what help _should_ feel like.

She thought he sounded almost…resigned as he said, “Okay.”

Turned out he _was_ helping. The cramping eased as he worked his way up her right foot and then leg, that radiant warmth spilling from his fingers. His breathing grew slow and deep as he worked, the temperature steady.

Weird. But kinda cool.

He was halfway up her left leg when there was a knock and a muffled, “Nephew?”

The prince lost whatever trance he’d been in, grumbling, “Couldn’t have waited _two more minutes._ ” But he put her legs down, adjusted her dress, and went to the door. “Yes, Uncle?”

“I have tea, if your wife is interested.”

Toph froze at that word, pushing it out of her conscious mind. Not her problem, not right now.

“Toph?” the prince, Zuko reminded herself, seemed to actually want her permission for this to go down.

“Do I have to move?” she asked, aiming for a plaintive, helpless voice. Not too helpless, she’d been pretty sharp with him earlier.

“Of course not,” Uncle said. “If you don’t mind if I come in.”

Toph nodded, pulling her legs in and trying to sit up more. She wasn’t really sure there was space around her for both of them. In spite of her uncertainty, the men seemed to find room. She heard a clatter and thought she felt a tray being set down in the middle of them. Her fingers and toes only gave her fuzzy hints, but maybe this was what other people felt like when it started getting dark out.

“It shouldn’t be too hot to hold,” Uncle said, his voice hinting that he’d leaned towards her, “but let me know if it is. Our sensitivity is different, I think, than yours.”

If Spark-Mouth’s hands were anything to go by, that was a solid yes. She held out her hands and waited for Uncle to place the mug in them. It was warm, but not too hot. “Thank you.”

She could bring out her manners for tea. Especially tea that smelled like this. Uncle chuckled. “I hope you like it. Prince Zuko is not a connoisseur, so I don’t often have someone to share this with.”

A pity. Apparently Uncle knew how to brew a good jasmine white, which was really helping to ease the tension. At least for Toph. Zuko had just mumbled something about “leaf juice.”

The savage.

* * *

Chef Yuzu accepted the tray from General Iroh, noticing the man’s gentle smile. “She likes tea,” the general explained, as if this solved everything.

Although, from his perspective, it might. “She seem okay after her fright? Fell into the water, didn’t she?”

And the smile slipped away into something more severe. “Yes, she seemed alright.” This smile was an act. “If we are very lucky, she is very resilient, and doesn’t startle easily.”

“Can’t have her falling off the ship though,” Yuzu muttered, moving back into the galley. “ The prince wouldn’t like that.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to avoid such accidents in the future.”

“Spirits willing,” Yuzu nodded, staring at the tea pot, frowning. “Our last accident—“

But he caught the general’s look and snapped his mouth shut. “Surely today we don’t need to dwell on such memories, hmm?”

“No, sir.”

“Thank you for your assistance. If you will have dinner ready at the usual time? I think it will be all three of us tonight.”

“Anything special, sir? For the occasion?”

They couldn’t get anything the prince liked, not on such short notice, but the girl…

General Iroh shook his head. “She hasn’t made any requests. We may delay any celebration until we can visit a port and meet everyone’s needs.”

“Very good, sir.”


	3. Chapter 3

Zuko had left after he changed, making sure to ask if she needed anything but not pushing when Toph had told him, for the third time, no.

The man’s attentiveness was _exhausting._

Waiting for the clang of his footsteps to fade, Toph rolled forward, sweeping her hands back and forth along the ridged metal, trying to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. The slight tremors that hummed through her fingers and legs were too muted for her to be sure how thick the floor was, but her hands didn’t find anything that her earthsense had missed.

So, clear enough to trust she could move.

Her first decision was to crawl over into the corner and drape herself over the stones that were lying there. She could feel every contour of them, the light song they sang as she moved against them and they rocked under her weight. It was comforting.

But she was still wet.

The muffled shadows on the floor around her were probably some mattresses and trunks. Most of them were against the far wall, but two were next to her rock pile, one of those close enough to touch her stones.

She slid until she could kneel in front of it, one hand still digging into her rock to keep her steady, and ran her hands along the top.

It felt right, like the trunks her mother had packed.

Fumbling at the latches with one hand didn’t work, so she had to let go of her stone. When she plunged her hands in her fingers were buried in stiff silks, a waft of her mother’s perfume tickling Toph’s nose. Ugh, she’d scented this box. It would take forever to air out.

But the fancy silks meant that this wasn’t the trunk Toph had been looking for, so she closed it, leaving the latches and scooting down to start on the other one. This one had the clothes with looser weaves, the ones that would hold more dirt and make more sense as she moved in them.

If there was enough dirt on the ship to collect, she thought glumly as she started pulling things out, laying them on the floor and unfolding them, testing the lengths and exploring the fastenings and ties.

Finding a complete outfit wasn’t too hard. Getting out of her wet clothes was _awful_. They stuck everywhere, to her and to themselves, they smelled, and when she did manage to peel out of a layer, it clung to the metal floor, taking up space and more heavy than she wanted to deal with.

That was before Toph got to the panic of needing to finish before Zuko got back. Or someone else dropped by. It was a ship, they couldn’t lock the door, could they?

By the time anyone did show back up Toph was not only dressed, but had managed to kick her wet clothes against the wall, repacked everything she wasn’t using, and had started mapping the room, one hand on the wall, her toes tapping with each step, trying to figure out what distances looked like now.

Things moved differently through metal. Everything felt…warped.

“You changed,” were the first surprised words out of Zuko’s mouth when he stomped his way into the room.

The echoes on the ship were nice. Toph had had plenty of warning. “I said I would.”

“Yeah.” She could tell his stance was shifting, but not what it meant. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Yes, but she was still on a ship, not land, and her stomach might be slightly protesting today’s earlier drowning still. The tea had been fine. Food…

She felt, heard, him move closer and leaned towards the far wall on instinct, wishing she were by her rocks. But she hadn’t wanted to cross the room without a wall, and around would have taken too long and—

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He wasn’t growling exactly, but the tight pinch of his voice pricked against her ears. “I’m not…” He was almost stiff enough to be a rock himself, she thought, her toes working against the metal. “I just want to talk.”

A sharp, “You can talk from over there,” seemed like a good plan. But Toph wasn’t stupid, and you didn’t hand your fear to someone like that. Not when you couldn’t drop them in a hole if they got feisty. So instead she tried, “I’ll sit over there first.”

She pointed at her rocks, and it took a moment but he said, “Okay.”

Which then left Toph with the decision of let go of the wall and walk straight over, or go around? She knew there was nothing on the floor between them, the mattresses were to her left, trunks to the right but out of the way. Not to mention some of the vibrations she was getting were the movements of the ship on the water, and those would fade a little if her hand wasn’t on the wall.

She took long enough Zuko asked, “Do you need help?”

“No.”

And that was what did it. She’d played helpless blind girl more than enough times in her life to know the perks. But while she didn’t want these people to know how much she _could_ see, she didn’t want them thinking she was helpless. It might give them…ideas.

She moved slower than she would have liked, but she made it in a mostly straight line to her rocks, settling into them and using the shift of her weight to reshape them slightly so she could lounge a little against them.

There were enough she could turn some into ammunition if she had to.

“Talk about what?” she asked, making sure her feet were flat to catch any more of his movements. He’d turned as she’d walked by, she thought.

The lump he made on the floor suggested cross legged when he sat. More comfortable than kneeling, but not casual. She hoped. “About getting you settled in.” And then, “And keeping you safe.”

“I was safe in Gaoling,” she retorted before she thinking. It wasn’t true. Her parents had obviously gotten her here without her permission. But it would have been fine, if she just could have stayed there.

Or something.

“You’ll be safe here,” Zuko answered, but it was like the words were getting stuck in his mouth. Toph leaned into her seat more, but it didn’t help her get a sense of if he was telling the truth or not.

And that was _scary_. Almost as much as days at sea, not being able to see anything, feeling like she’d had her legs cut off or something, no earth anywhere, just bobbing and wobbling and the creak of wood and the swears of the crew and her mom crying herself to sleep each night.

The trip here had been worse. But that didn’t make this _better_.

“If you say so,” Toph replied when Zuko didn’t continue. “I guess you can keep me locked up in here all the time.”

“No.”

And _that_ was a surprise. Because he didn’t just sound serious, he hadn’t even had to think about that. “Okay?”

Nice thing about fire benders breathing so deep, Toph didn’t have to wonder what he was doing when he paused. “You’re not going to be trapped in here. You’re not a prisoner, you’re my _wife_.”

She choked, she couldn’t help it. Bad enough when Uncle had said it, hearing it from this guy? Bleh. Zuko must have heard it because he stopped. Waited.

Guy was _way_ patient for a fire bender. Not calm patient. But I-can-be-here-all-day-steaming kind of still, waiting.

Weird. “Not sure you noticed,” Toph said, grinding her toes into the floor as if it would help her see better, “but I didn’t exactly _choose_ to be here. And I can’t choose to leave either.”

At least, not alive. Unless they put her on land. Then she’d be _gone_.

“I didn’t choose this either,” Zuko started, and Toph scoffed. “I _didn’t_ ,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t… You don’t know my father. You wouldn’t understand.”

No, but Toph knew her father. Knew that he’d drugged her and had her packed off like a sack of rice one night because he was just smart enough to know she got up to things, and he shouldn’t give her any warning. Knew he’d told her she was getting married when they were already two day’s journey from home and Toph was too sick to eat anything.

The Fire Lord had conquered parts of the world. He probably had his own form of leverage. “Nah, I get it. Your dad sucks too.”

Something _rippled_ through the room. Toph felt the heat not just in her toes but across her face and arms. What the—

“My father,” and if the words had been pinched before they were cut like slivers now, “is…difficult. Sometimes. But—It’s not a surprise that he would arrange my marriage.”

“To me?” Toph knew how Earth Kingdom soldiers talked about the Fire Nation. No way was it any better the other way around. She didn’t need to be able to feel him lying to know that was a bunch of shale shards.

“That…was a surprise.” And that didn’t sound quite like the truth either, but Toph couldn’t be _sure_ and how did normal people ever figure out who was lying anyway?

“So where are we going?” Running away in the Fire Nation wasn’t an option, but they were still near the Earth Kingdom coast. And wasn’t this guy in exile or something?

Another of those deep breaths. “We’re heading north. It’s summer, but we’ll be heading into fall soon. We’ll need more temperate weather while you’re adjusting.”

Asking why seemed a bit silly, but Toph wasn’t convinced nice weather was going to help her all that much.

And this was when Toph finally put together that they both seemed to be avoiding any kind of real conversation. If that deep breathing was anything to go by, Zuko had almost worked himself up to whatever _he_ thought they should talk about. Which meant she had one chance to get in a good distraction.

“I can keep all of these, right?”

Yup, that was a confused noise. “The stones? Yes. If you need them.”

“I do.” Maybe not all of them, but this was a nice pile, she could weaponize them if she needed to, and if carrying a few rocks meant they had to stop the ship for some reason…

Yeah, she was keeping the rocks.

“Can I spread them out a bit?”

“All around the room?” Zuko asked. “Or just where they are?”

She hadn’t really thought about sticking them around the whole room. She could see well enough with the metal floors that having touchstones wasn’t a problem. Although missing the details was killing her. “Here is fine. Just not all stacked up like this.”

Not that she had a problem with it, but the more space she marked as hers, the better she’d feel. It’s not like he needed rocks.

“That’s fine. I mean, if you need to move them anywhere in here, that’s fine. We’ll just have to rearrange things.” He did seem pretty calm about it. “Do you want us to do that now?”

“I’ll do it,” Toph said. They were just _rocks_. “Later.”

Or right now if he was about to try and start that conversation again.

But no, someone was clanking down the hall, knocking on the metal door. A shush of fabric, scrape of armor, and Zuko was moving across the room, which was enough to get Toph standing. “Yes?”

“My apologies, Prince Zuko. But we’re passing a patrol.”

There was that stillness again, but just for a moment. “I’ll come out. Send Sergeant Mao up here. And my uncle.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the guard clanged away Zuko said, “You’ll need to stay here. Uncle will look after you.”

Not like she was going anywhere anyway, but Toph objected on principle. “What, is something wrong?”

“Not wrong. Just…inconvenient.”

Scary, she thought she heard him say. But then she didn’t know him that well. “Okay. It’s not like I had other plans.”

She could move her rocks, or see if she could pump Uncle for more information. He’d been good humored over tea.

Instead of just leaving, Zuko actually walked towards her, hesitated, then reached out and touched her arm, not quite grabbing. Toph twitched, sliding a foot back, closer to her rocks. But he didn’t do anything else. Just said, “I _will_ keep you safe.”

Which was a lot scarier than anything else that had been said, now that Toph thought about it. “Okay.”

His fingers slid down her sleeve, not quite pinching the fabric as the warmth of him moved away. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

Something about the way he said that, Toph wasn’t sure it was directed at her. “Yeah, okay.”

And then he was gone, calling down the hall, the clatter of him on the stairs echoing through the open door.

Toph thought about closing it, then just curled back up on her rocks. Not worth the time.

What patrol were they worried about anyway?

* * *

Jee watched the prince pace the bridge, the signals from the other ships still silent after the first response.

“Anything in the water?” he demanded again, his eyes scanning the water line of the other cruiser.

“Nothing, sir,” Jee confirmed, doing his own check of their deck and the ship rails. “Still clear.”

It was hard to miss those fists clenching and unclenching. The temperature shifted slightly with each movement. Jee wondered if the prince knew he was doing that. He wondered if the prince realized many things these days. “Let me know if anything changes.”

“Yes, sir.”

They’d have this conversation again in two minutes, then again in five. Hopefully by then the cruiser would be far enough out they could move to doing a sweep of their ship, fast and thorough, and then everything would calm down again.

Just in time for dinner.

But for now, the prince just watched the water, the lights in the room shifting with those fists.


	4. Chapter 4

With a nod to Sergeant Mao, Jee tapped a light knock on the door to the prince’s quarters, entering at the general’s pleasant, “Come in.”

They were off in the corner of the room, the princess propped on the pile of rocks they’d brought on board, her sightless gaze pointed towards the opposite corner, completely missing Jee. And the general.

“Do we have an all clear?” the general prompted, and Jee snapped back to attention, nodding. Then, realizing the princess would have missed that, “Yes, General. Final sweep has been done. The prince requests you join him for dinner downstairs. It should be about ready.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. May I?” the general asked as he stood, holding a hand out so it was near her arm but not quite touching. She made a face, not a happy one, but Jee couldn’t be sure what it was supposed to mean. She nodded though, and let the general help her stand and take her arm.

It wasn’t a slow process, but it was enough time for Jee to notice the pile of wet silks up against the wall, the slight smudges still on her face where makeup had been smeared earlier. She looked better without it, he thought. But then, most anything was an improvement from almost drowning.

Her new clothes had fewer layers, flowed more than the stiff, damp wedding dress had. All to be expected. But they weren’t sitting completely straight and Jee had to make himself _not_ think about that.

It could mean anything.

But manners were manners, and as the two moved to exit, Jee has to ask, “Would you like us to take care of your dress, Princess?”

She completely froze at the word, her eyes going big and round. Then her mouth ticked, something almost like a sneer creeping up as she said, “Don’t bother. I doubt it can be salvaged.”

Trying not to take that as a portent, the lieutenant asked, “Just remove it then?”

“Yeah,” she answered, and the informality was another oddity he had to ignore. “That’s fine. And the shoes,” there was a strong emphasis on that one as she actually pointed through him, her gaze still toward the middle distance, but her finger unerringly precise as Jee turned and spotted another damp pile on the other side of the door. “Those go too.”

At least she _could_ command. Princess Ina—

No, he didn’t need to think about that.

“Of course, Princess.”

There was another odd expression Jee half caught as he moved to obey. He could hear her clearly though as she asked the general, “Does he have to use that?”

“It is your title,” the general wasn’t cheerful exactly, and it was hard to guess what he was thinking.

“That’s not a yes or no.”

Jee almost chuckled. So she’d noticed. Good.

The general’s reply was a mild, “It depends on what their commanding officer expects.”

The lieutenant didn’t think she answered that.

* * *

Ships stank, Toph thought, forcing herself to not shift again on her mattress. She hadn’t noticed this afternoon because this one stank different than her father’s and she’d been covered in sea water. But when they’d come back here after dinner—well, dinner and “music night”—while the room didn’t have her wet things in it any more it…still stank.

Which sucked.

Almost as much as the rather poor attempts from her roommate to pretend he was sleeping. She’d been stuck on a ship for days before this. She was _plenty_ acquainted with sleep breathing. He was not doing it.

She wasn’t even trying.

So she didn’t feel bad when she stood up, almost throwing off her blankets and lurching across the room to her rocks. Her toes picked up some sort of lurch which had to be Zuko sitting up, and he _definitely_ hadn’t been sleeping because his immediate, “Toph?” was perfectly clear and concise.

“Getting something,” she muttered, almost losing her balance once as the ship rocked. But she made it over okay.

“Do you need—“

“No.”

She was blind, not _helpless_. But maybe he couldn’t see that she wasn’t going for her trunks. Or he—did he _not know_? That earthbenders could just move stuff like this and it wasn’t even a big deal?

Not that Toph was grabbing the whole pile. Or even a full stone.

She tapped a few just to make sure the one nearest had the best break lines. Always easier to work with stone than against it. So many benders were lazy and sloppy. Toph held out one fist to make sure nothing slid, then brought her right hand out in front of her, flat, taking a deep breath. Had it really been _days_ since she’d last done something as simple as this?

Her right hand cut under her fist and there was a thick _snick_ as the earth separated but didn’t slide off. Perfect.

Fist relaxed, two hands flat in front Toph lifted slightly, calling the pillow sized chunk of stone over, flipping her left hand and sliding it just under the rock, holding mostly with bending not muscle. But touching.

She’d _missed_ this touch.

It wasn’t until she’d gotten back to her bed, tossed her old pillow out of the way and sculpted the new one into order that Toph realized Zuko was probably still watching if his breathing was anything to go by. But he didn’t say anything, so she fumbled around for her blanket and got comfy, soothed by the dirt smell and that quiet earth song.

“Are you squeamish?” he asked suddenly, just as Toph was really getting comfortable. He sounded whatever the exact opposite of comfortable was.

“Like, with bugs and stuff?” she asked, not sure how this was relevant in the middle of the night on a ship. “No.”

“Blood?”

Maybe he was thinking about earlier, she realized. She still had that bandage on her hand. It itched, but just a little. Kind of hilarious he thought she might be squeamish about blood. She was a _girl_ , technically. And she couldn’t see blood even if she could feel and smell it. “No, why would I be?”

“Oh.”

Definitely not comfortable. Was this seriously what was keeping him up? That she didn’t freak out over a cut hand?

It must have been, because Toph didn’t hear him shift to sleep breathing before she finally drifted off.

* * *

Zuko never fell asleep before her. It was one of about a million super weird things about him.

* * *

“Does he always yell when you criticize his bending?” she asked Uncle Iroh, trying to see if she could feel the benders’ exact movements across the deck.

“Only when he is very embarrassed,” Uncle Iroh responded very quietly, and Toph _could_ feel the subtle shakes that meant he was almost chuckling. He was close enough. “But he means well.”

“Sure.”

* * *

“Literally everyone else on this ship would kill for this tea,” Toph told Jee, pretty sure he was eyeing her cup with envy. “Zuko seriously just calls it hot leaf juice?”

“The prince has unique tastes,” was the short reply, and Toph felt the shift of discomfort. But it blurred her sense of what Huang was doing further down the hall.

* * *

“He’s reading spirit tales?” Toph asked, unable to take her sense impression of Zuko and impose enough levity or fun through it for that to make any sense. “You’re kidding.”

“No, Princess,” Mao almost sounded like she was smiling. But in a sad way. “Nothing the prince does is ever a joke.”

“Now that’s the truth,” Toph muttered, moving her foot down the step slowly, trying to make sure she could still see with the one balanced on the stair.

* * *

“He meditates for _how_ long? _Every day_?”

* * *

“Why does he _come_ to music night if he’s just going to be grumpy and hate it?” Toph muttered, accepting a cup from Uncle and savoring the ginseng scent. “It’s no fun for anyone then.”

“He has his responsibilities,” Uncle suggested, and Toph did _not_ understand how making his crew unhappy by being around had to be one of those. “He may also be trying to relax.”

The hyper-vigilant, rigid posture that always sat next to her said Uncle was full of it. “And I’m a rabaroo.”

“Do you enjoy music night?” Uncle asked, ignoring her complaints. He did that a lot. He had _plenty_ of practice.

“It’s something to do.” She was blind, not deaf.She _could_ enjoy music. Although not all of the crew was equally talented. And some of the Fire Nation instruments were weird.

Uncle sipped his tea. “Maybe you can help us find something more interesting.”

Toph made a face, but she was pretty sure Uncle ignored it.

* * *

Maybe lying sprawled on her back on the deck wasn’t the most _dignified_ thing Toph could have been doing, but it wasn’t like she was allowed to do anything else. And if she had to lie down somewhere, the deck was kind of nice because—and this was weird—it had less metal and less vibrations all around her. So the rocking and swaying of the ship didn’t bother her as much.

But of course she couldn’t be left on deck alone. Shiya was standing nearby, and helpfully murmured, “The prince is coming,” as the most recognizable, upright, stiff steps on the whole ship approached.

Zuko stopped in line with Shiya and demanded, “What are you doing?”

Toph still wasn’t sure exactly what would happen if she picked an actual fight with him, especially in public, so she bypassed, “What does it look like?” and settled on an equally unhelpful but hopefully less provocative, “Nothing.”

“On the deck?” he pressed, and with her whole body stretched along the metal floor she could feel him bracing himself, settling even stiffer, pressing his feet down and pulling back his shoulders.

Since talking about her nausea would only cause more problems, she offered the next most honest thing. “I’m bored.”

“What did you do at home?” he asked, the settled stance broken by shifting feet.

The honest answer was, “Punch people. With rocks.” Probably not what he was looking for. “Played in the dirt.”

It was worth the twitches. Shiya almost jumped, Zuko did a hot breath that made the deck beneath him warm, and Jee, who was crossing to the tower, actually stopped for a moment.

“We don’t have any dirt,” Zuko said after a moment.

“Really,” Toph smiled, and she knew it wasn’t nice. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“We have coal soot,” Shiya said, and Toph felt Zuko’s feet almost curl at the toes. “It’s not quite the same, but there’s a lot of it.”

Toph hummed for a moment, noticing how it made her ribs feel against the metal of the deck, letting her fingers curl. “Not today. I’m pretty comfortable right here.”

That was probably supposed to be a nod, Toph thought as there was a paused and then Zuko pivoted and stalked away.

* * *

“How is she?” Sergeant Mao asked.

Private Shiya finished her soup before answering. “Better than the first, by all I’ve heard, though that’s not hard.” She stared into her bowl, tilting it from side to side. “I think she’s getting comfortable. We may actually get to meet her soon.”

There was a thoughtful hum from Shiya’s superior. “You don’t think we have?”

Given how much time the princess still spent in the prince’s quarters on any given day, how they’d never seen her bend although the prince said he had once, how she’d only had real conversations with General Iroh so far, how she bossed them but only in sporadic bursts, Shiya had to say no. “I’m looking forward to it,” she couldn’t help grinning. “I don’t think the prince is ready yet.”

“No,” Sergeant Mao agreed, but the thought didn’t seem to amuse her as much. Well, she’d been here since the first debacle. “I don’t think he is either.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was easier to focus on the cup in her hands to help her ignore the sway of the ship beneath her. But that back and forth shifting matched her mood, unsteady and adrift in the conversation.

It didn’t help that Mao wouldn’t settle down and kept jerking to look between Toph and Uncle Iroh. With the warping of the metal floor, the movement was slightly nauseating to notice.

“So, Fire Lord Sozin decided to start conquering the rest of the world,” Toph summarized, not sure how placating she wanted her language to be. She was…kinda upset. “And Fire Lord Azulon kept at it. And he’s your father, and he had you and _then_ Fire Lord Ozai.” Which was weird, because as far as Toph knew _no one_ just _handed_ a throne to their younger brother. But Uncle was _not_ making any effort to explain that one. “And you had a son,” she found her voice softening, paused for a moment to feel Uncle Iroh take a slow breath, “Lu-Ten. And Fire Lord Ozai has Zuko, who is his heir, and Princess Azula. And that’s everyone?”

She could hear Uncle set down his cup before answering, “Technically, if we are talking about the living royal family, that would be Fire Lord Ozai, Prince Zuko, _you_ , Princess Toph, Princess Azula, and then myself.”

Which left a lot of gaps as far as Toph was concerned. Uncle had mentioned his wife in passing when he’d talked about Lu Ten, and his mother. But not Sparky’s mom. And that didn’t sit quite right.

Deciding it would probably be easier to get him to talk about that particular subject if Mao wasn’t around, Toph instead went for, “So who’s Princess Ina?”

The silence dropped so fast Toph almost felt it. There was an odd hitch from Mao, and a shift like she had turned to look at Uncle again.

He almost reached for his tea before his hands stilled, resting on the table. “Princess Ina was Prince Zuko’s first wife.” A careful pause before he asked, “Did he mention her?”

“No,” Toph could bluster through discomfort as easily as she could dig tunnels and escape her family home. Plenty of practice. She didn’t know that it was the _right_ way to handle this situation, but delicacy was a skill she preferred to use sparingly. People started to expect it if you used it too much. “He didn’t.”

The careful blandness of Uncle’s tone as he said, “I assume you heard something from the crew then?” was plenty of warning. It was the closest Toph had heard anyone on this ship to sounding like her father and she did not like it.

“I guess so,” she didn’t snap at him, but she imagined her voice was a wall, braced and backed by all her will and bending. Nothing was getting through. No ground was going to give.

And maybe Uncle actually recognized that, because he was much softer as he said, “I see.” Another long pause before, “It would be best if you got any information about the princess from Prince Zuko. It would be…indiscreet for any of us to discuss her without his knowledge or permission.”

“At all?” Toph demanded, her fingers tightening around her cup. “He what, _owns_ your memories of her?”

“Is there any reason you can’t ask him?” Uncle dodged the question with a practiced glide of conversation shift and Toph let herself scowl, not slamming but thumping the cup onto the table.

“Is there a good reason you can’t answer?”

That _was_ a snap, and Mao was getting uncomfortable, shifting more, and maybe warming slightly. It was harder to tell through the cushion.

“There are reasons,” Uncle acknowledged, and he sounded so sad Toph didn’t know what to do. “But if you want to discuss them, you need to do it with the prince. Since it is a matter most closely related to him.”

“That’ll happen,” Toph muttered, snatching her cup back and taking a sip of what was left. She’d let it get too cool. It wasn’t soothing anymore.

* * *

Six weeks, Toph realized, was a long time to try and ignore someone. Especially when you shared a room with them. But you could, if both of you were making the effort.

And boy were they making an effort.

“I’m sorry Princess, he just left.”

“No Princess, I think he was headed for the bridge.”

“Princess, have you tried the galley?”

“Sorry, not here, Princess.”

It took four more rounds of the ship and talking to a total of ten people before Toph was able to catch up with Zuko in the small room that constituted his office when it wasn’t their dining room.

He was facing away from the door, cross-legged on the floor, probably using the table to read something, when she stopped just inside the room.

“We need to talk.”

Toph felt the slight shift as Zuko turned to look at her, then away. “I thought we weren’t talking.”

Oh, so he _had_ noticed. “Uncle says we have to. That we’re being ridiculous.”

His best response turned out to be, “You don’t answer to Uncle. You’re the crown princess.”

Toph thought about that one before asking, “Does that mean I answer to you?”

“Yes.” Oh. Great. While Toph ground her teeth and crossed her arms, Zuko asked, “Am I doing something that’s upsetting you?”

“We’re not talking,” she growled. “How can you be upsetting me?”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to go home!” It came out before Toph could think about it, before she was really sure what it meant.

“This is home now.”

“No, it’s really not.” It was hard to believe that if she could, Toph would gladly go back to that house that had felt like a cage. She might even forgive—hell, talk to— her mother, if she were given the chance. Maybe…

There was an aggressive silence in the room as Zuko said, “I can’t fix that.”

Knowing the broiling tension where he was sitting was a bad sign, but not sure what would happen, Toph said, “Some things just can’t be fixed.”

“I’m aware!” Zuko snapped, a hiss and crackle coming from where he was. Two deep, slow breaths. “Did you need something? Something I _can_ get?”

A friend, Toph thought, who she could actually trust. Freedom. Oh, and, “Off this ship. Me,” she added, quickly. “I need me off this ship. If you can manage that.”

She felt him twist, still seated, but now facing her. She was sure because his voice was clearer when he said, “Are you ill?”

“No,” Toph admitted. “I’m not…I’m not going to die or anything,” she ignored his flinch at that. “I just…I’m ungrounded. It’s uncomfortable.”

The silence as she waited for an answer was almost painful. “Define uncomfortable.”

Toph threw up her arms. “I’m on a _boat_ —“

“Ship,” Zuko corrected, but Toph ignored it.

“That goes up and down with every wave and every strong breeze. I can’t _see_ anything, so I just _feel_ it. All the time! My stomach hasn’t sat still in weeks, my head hurts, and I can’t practice bending! Would you like me to continue?”

“Yes.”

The simplicity of the answer stopped her almost as much as the sincerity in his voice. “What?”

“I need to know if you’re unwell,” Zuko had slowed his words and Toph was about ready to hit him for it. She was _not_ a simpleton. “I can't solve all of those problems, but if finding a safe place to land for a couple of hours will help you, I can look. That’s difficult, but doable.”

“Are you insane?” seemed a redundant question, so Toph swallowed it. Instead she asked, “And what are we going to do? About me being _here_?”

Her earthsense had to be getting better because she could feel his breath as much as hear it. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll think about it.”

Well, she’d tried.

“Do you have any other symptoms?” Zuko asked, and Toph couldn’t keep the frown off her face. “I can’t promise you’ll always be comfortable, but I do need to know if you’re unwell. We have to fix that.”

It was impossible for Toph to say what exactly about his question bothered her the most. It was almost reminiscent of her father and mother, worrying about her without understanding what they should be worried about. But he sounded like he was actually going to listen, which should have been comforting, except—

Toph knew she was a commodity. Any daughter of any Earth Kingdom family was, to some degree or another, and as the only Beifong…well, her mother had been telling her for years how important her marriage would be. To the family, not to Toph.

But it had been a while since she’d been told she needed to be fixed.

“I’m not broken,” she snapped, toes curling. “I’m just different. I work just fine.”

“Do you…want a job?” Zuko asked, sounding pathetically confused. “I don’t mind you helping out on the ship—everyone does—but what could you do?”

It would not do her any good to scream. Toph knew that, but she still had to swallow several times before she could manage an even, “I can do whatever I want. If anyone would bother to even try to teach me. Or _ask_ if I wanted to help.”

This wasn’t what this was supposed to be about. This wasn’t why she had come to find him. But he made it so hard to stay focused. Or maybe she was just losing her touch, all adrift from this time at sea.

But even if he wasn’t steady, or focused, he was persistent. “Tell me how you’re feeling, and how it’s different from how you normally felt at home. We can find something for you to do, but not until we know it not too dangerous.”

She’d fought giants. She’d Rumbled for almost ten years, carving a name for herself into a society that wasn’t supposed to know she existed, and would have wanted her in someone’s shadow if they had. “I’m dangerous,” Toph threw at him, feeling him jerk back. “And if you don’t start taking me seriously, you’re going to find out the _hard_ way!”

Which was, she would admit later, definitely not what Uncle had intended when he’d told her to go and talk to Zuko. But it felt _good_ , even when Zuko moved all into her space, trembling as he stood in front of her.

“I don’t _want_ to hurt you,” he growled. “But my people need me, and they come first.” And for the first time she heard raw disdain from him as he added, “I don’t expect you to understand that.”

He pushed past her before she could give him a good jab back, upsetting her balance. She felt like she was still reeling when Shiya found her a moment later, asked if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” Toph snapped, gripping the doorframe so tight she almost imagined she could have crushed it, if it were a proper rock. And since it was Shiya, and Shiya was always nice, she didn’t add, “I just hate this place.”


	6. Chapter 6

She hadn’t expected it, but the first words Zuko offered Toph when he closed the door to their room that night were, “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t _punching_ her pillow, exactly. More like smacking it, trying to see if she could adjust the density a bit, back and forth, because she was frustrated and this was the most complicated thing that she could think to do. To practice her bending.

Which wouldn’t be a problem if they were on _land_.

“For what?” Toph asked, drawing up her own mental list, wondering how it would compare with his. She dropped her pillow back onto her mat, straining to feel the vibrations down and up through the plush surface. She didn’t add, “This time.”

“For not listening to you,” Zuko said, and it sounded like his teeth were grinding against each other. Toph shifted her leg so one of her feet was on the floor. She could almost see him now. “You were trying to talk to me. About…your bending? Your health? And I interrupted you.”

That was a hell of a way to put it. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what happened. Or we’re remembering very different conversations. Is there another Fire Prince on board who stormed off in huff that I missed?”

It was probably rude of her to bait him, but she was still mad about it. He hadn’t even given her time for a good comeback. And then there had been the stiffness and the whispers the rest of the day. Half of the crew liked her, more or less. But all of them seemed wary of her, and it had gotten worse, not better, as the day went on.

Apparently any yelling that happened on a ship this small was exactly zero percent private. Which would have been nice to know _before_ Toph had decided to start yelling.

The warmth that was Zuko’s temper rose and fell two or three times before he answered, “I don’t like it when people threaten me. Any more than you seem to.”

Okay, that was fair. “Good news for you, if I ever piss you off enough you can just throw me off the ship. It’s not like I can swim.”

She wasn’t completely sure what she was trying to do with that flippant comment. She didn’t actually want him to do it and would fight anyone who tried. But there was something satisfying in his flickering response. Not like his anger, quicker and more fleeting than that. And, somehow, more tense.

“I’m not throwing you overboard. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Which was not a promise that he wouldn’t. Toph wasn’t stupid. “As long as I behave,” she sneered.

There was a garbled mess that came out of his mouth before he managed, “What is that even supposed to mean?” Toph felt her mouth dropping open as he added, in louder and louder tones, “You’re not a child. You’re not a prisoner. There’s nothing I’ve even asked you to do, except stay inside sometimes because it’s dangerous. Behave like what?”

“Uhhh,” Toph froze, stiffening her limbs and reaching with her senses, straining them. “Like…a princess?”

There was no way she was saying wife. She was not inviting _that_ conversation. They’d avoided it really well so far.

There was the indication of movement, almost like Zuko was just waving his hands, flailing about. “When did I ask you to do that?”

Alright, now Toph was really confused. And angry. “Wasn’t that the whole point of Uncle giving me all these lessons?”

“You didn’t ask for those?”

Not…not all of them. Not exactly. “I mean, I asked him some questions when I first got here. About…what is the Fire Nation like. He…kinda likes to lecture. A lot.”

There was a snort. “And proverbs,” Zuko groaned. “Don’t get him started—“

“Oh I know. I figured _that_ out.” Although a little warning would have been nice. Toph didn’t mind in general. Her entire education had been recited to her. But while she didn’t think Uncle exactly liked hearing himself talk, she did get the impression that he liked having an audience that didn’t throw up their arms and stomp away from him. “But he keeps finding me when I’m alone, or whatever, and we’ll start with tea, but then he just keeps going and…”

She could tell him to stop. But…

Zuko stiffened, “You have nothing else to do.” And then, more slowly, “You’re…being polite?”

Did he have to sound like it was such a shock. “I do kind of live here now. It’s pretty close quarters. I can’t offend _everybody_ all the time. There’s nowhere to escape.”

A rushing sigh and then, “Yeah, it’s…yeah. You can’t just leave. Get out.”

Oh boy, she wasn’t touching that one. Curiosity might be her besetting sin, but she knew better than to approach that tone. It was…confidential. And she wasn’t making a mistake of inviting him to share anything like that.

When she didn’t say anything after a moment, Zuko said, “You can tell him to stop. Order him. He’s pretty good about listening to that. Most of the time.”

Toph snorted. “He’ll just find another way to get what he wants. And it’s not like I have more important things to do. Unlike everyone else.”

The tension returned and Zuko took a half step forward. “Do you…want something to do?”

“No, of course not. I just want to sit here, all day long, looking fragile and getting in everyone’s way.”

That earned an actual chuckle. For a second. “I don’t think that sounds like much fun. What would you rather do?”

“Bend,” Toph said, and was angry at herself for the longing in her voice. “Like, real bending. I haven’t in _weeks_. It’s…” Awful. Wretched. Sickening. She felt like she was starting to float away. Or maybe like she was becoming the boat. All beaten and salted steel, guided by someone else’s hand, always moving at their whim and direction, rising and falling at the will of the waves.

She _hated_ it. Give her some good basalt or granite. Something sturdy, something she could _smash heads_ with—

“This isn’t enough rocks?” Zuko gestured to the corner where her boulders were. She’d moved and reshaped them a few times, curled up against them and napped every so often, just to listen to their song.

But, “No. Not for what I do.”

“We can’t carry a ton of extra weight,” Zuko said slowly. “Our coal supplies are pretty limited. And our space. Would smaller ones be more useful?”

Oof, right to the tough questions. “I can bend no matter the size of the earth. But most of what I work with is on solid ground. Throwing rocks around in the air isn’t the most useful kind of earth bending. It’s pretty weak, actually. Earth still touching other earth is…better?”

She thought he might have cocked his head. “You need a root?”

There was a brief recall of Uncle yelling something about that to Zuko. “More or less? I don’t know if it’s the same as a firebending root, but yeah. I have to be pretty grounded or I lose a lot of my foundations.”

Not utility. Toph was going to be the best earthbender in the world. She’d joked about taking over Omashu at one point, when some morons had been questioning her. She could do plenty with dirt and small rocks. Just look at her nice pillow.

But for combat? She needed the space to move and somewhere to find her balance. She couldn’t _see_ like other people.

She was almost afraid she was really starting to go blind again, like before she had met the badgermoles.

“We can’t stay docked all of the time,” Zuko said, and while he seemed a teeny bit apologetic, he didn’t waver. “I’m not allowed in the Fire Nation and we can’t stay on Earth Kingdom soil for long before the army finds us. That’s no good for anyone.”

Well, it might be okay for Toph. She could pretend to be kidnapped. Only…

Only Mao and Shiya and Yuzu had always been kind to her, or tried, and Toph knew, _knew_ , that if she pretended to have been kidnapped there wouldn’t be any mercy from the Earth army. There probably wouldn’t be mercy anyway. And at best, they’d just take Toph back to her parents. “Yeah, no. Let’s avoid them, please.”

“I can try,” Zuko seemed to relax slightly, “to find places where we can stop. For a few hours, maybe a day or two. Especially if this hurts you.”

He seemed…really fixated on that. Not pushing the way he had been earlier, trying to drag out exact details. But insistent. Toph wasn’t sure how to feel about it. “Define hurt,” she said. “I don’t know what this will do to my bending, long term. I know I feel queasy most of the time, and unfocused. I’m not usually in pain, I guess.” Not unless she did something stupid, like take a nap on the deck and get a sunburn. Rookie mistake, she had been told. For an Earth Kingdom girl, anyway. Sunburn didn’t seem to happen to most Fire people.

Go figure.

There were long breaths filling the silence. Then Zuko said, “I’ll have to look at the maps. And cross reference our travel logs. We may…” There was a twist, but Toph couldn’t be sure what it was. “I try not to stay on a fixed path or schedule. We’ve been out in these waters long enough, people know to look for us. We can be…easy targets. But I can see what we can do about finding routes that give you some space to bend. If you need.”

“Uh, yeah,” Toph said, willing to push this point. “How would you feel if you went for weeks with only a bunch of candles to bend with?”

That contortion reminded Toph of a full body wince. “We—Firebenders carry our fire in us. It’s harder to separate us from our element.”

He didn’t follow up. Toph would have been frustrated, but between the body language and his tone, she got a vague impression. Something like, I don’t know what you’re saying but I get it.

Which was good enough. This time. “Lucky you. If I figure out how to drag around a continental plate without it sinking your ship, I’ll let you know.”

He coughed, and she wasn’t sure if he was confused or hiding a laugh. “I’ll look for some islands. I think there may be some we’ll be passing in a day or two.” He added, “And if there’s something else you want to do, want to learn, tell me. I’ll see if we can teach you how to do it.”

Toph cocked her head, and wondered how far that went. “I’d probably be good at cleaning the smokestack. Coal responds a lot like dirt.”

The tension and “We’ll see,” didn’t bode well.

But she’d tried.

* * *

Huang slid down the last few rungs of the ladder, sidling up behind Sergeant Mao and looking out over the water. She didn’t twitch, but it took more than a bit of sneaking to scare her, most days. “How’s it going?”

“He seems to have cooled down.” She didn’t say much else. She didn’t like talking about the Prince, which wasn’t a surprise. She’d been one of the only ones close to Princess Ina, as much as anyone could claim to be, and had thought, like the rest of them, that the prince wouldn’t forgive her failure.

She kept a respectful distance of his feelings in her conversations, and Huang respected that. But still, “What a day, right sir?”

She actually did turn to him, eyebrows high, her expression grim. “Today was a good day, Seaman. Good weather, no injuries, no major repairs. All’s well on the little ship.”

Yeah, but, “There’s scorch marks on the stern rails. Lieutenant Jee isn’t happy.”

“You should scour them,” she suggested. “It’ll put him in a better mood.”

It wasn’t that the ship didn’t have formalities, but when you were functionally in exile, some of them became less meaningful. And present. Time was the sergeant would have just ordered him to do it. Now she seemed comfortable granting him enough rope to hang himself. “I may do just that.”

He watched the water with her for a few more minutes, the moonlight glancing white in arcs and ripples, blackness seeping in between. Not a place he’d like to end up, even as calm as things were, even with the moon so clear.

“Think she’ll make it?” he asked, remembering that splash and the Earth woman’s screams.

 _That_ had been a bad day.

Sergeant Mao hated that question. He felt it standing next to her, saw it in her steaming breath. “There is no acceptable alternative.”

Yeah, but Huang knew that didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of unacceptable ones.


	7. Chapter 7

The ship had stopped moving.

The ship had _stopped moving_.

Toph opened her eyes, because that was what awake people did, but not before she had thrown her hands directly against the floor, slamming them down and catching the tingling vibrations up her fingers.

There was the gentlest hint of shifting, of still being surrounded by water. But she could almost see, could feel, the nose of the ship sunk against something.

For a moment she didn’t breathe.

Then Toph threw off her blanket and scrambled up, almost flying to the door before the hint of footsteps brought her up short, wanting to scream because someone was coming and they were _in her way._

“You’re awake,” Zuko had no right to sound surprised. She was allowed to be awake when she wanted. “We—“

“The ship stopped,” she said, almost vibrating, leaning towards the door without taking a step closer to him. “It—“

“We found a small island,” Zuko said, _shutting the door_. “It’s not much, but hopefully it will help. We can’t stay here all day. There are patrols in the area. But I can give you at least a few hours.”

Rocking slightly Toph said, “Okay…”

There was more stiffness to him now, but Toph didn’t care. If he didn’t move there were rocks and she _would use them_ if he didn’t move _away from the door_.

“Would you like to go before breakfast,” he asked, the words stupidly slow, “or after?”

“ _Now_ ,” Toph growled, and felt the stones shift as she clenched her fists. Zuko started, almost tripping back into the door and getting more in the way.

But he balanced out pretty quickly. “I leave you to get dressed then.”

The only reason, the _only_ reason, she didn’t just march out after him was because he moved as quickly as he did to give her space.

And maybe because she wasn’t sure what kind of earth was out there and she wasn’t keen on sleeping in _sand_ for the next few weeks, it just wasn’t the same.

There was a mad scramble and Toph had to stop in the middle of ripping through her trunks and press her hands into the floor, trying to root herself to the steel of the ship. It didn’t respond the way it should. It was stiff, but not _right_. But she needed to calm down if she was going to sort through the fabrics and pick something she could move in if there was real ground out there.

There was.

Zuko had waited for her just outside, and while she didn’t accept the arm he offered, she did notice that he kept up with her pretty well. She didn’t stop when she hit the deck, sensing that the front of the ship had been lowered, knowing that was where she needed to go. There were murmurs from the crew and if Toph hadn’t practiced, hadn’t been the best bender, she might not have noticed Zuko waving people back as she ploughed past, and then down the ramp.

Her toes hit sand first, and she almost tripped. Her earthsense was a _mess_. She could sense every grain of sand, but almost got lost in the vision of it. She stomped, straightened, and made a line for the more gravely climb that eventually hit—

Earth.

Toph sighed, two steps onto solid ground, then three. The earth here had a worn, washed out feel too it, like water was seeping in and slowly wearing it away. But it was solid.

She was home.

There was a “Gurk!” behind her as Toph threw herself forward and she felt Zuko lurch towards her. But she was already sinking into the stone and dirt, making herself a comfortable little hole, dragging more earth between her arms and curling around it, feeling it press against her back and neck, break and crumble into her hair, squish between her toes.

Toph sighed again, perfectly content.

They might never dig her out of this.

After a few moments there was a hesitant, “Sir,” that Toph cheerfully ignored. She knew it was probably Shiya, by the rough size and shape Toph had been getting from the metal of the ship. She could see the woman clearly now, feel her every shift, notice the perfect balance of her stance, even when at something like a parade rest.

And Zuko.

Zuko was a _mess_. Everything about his posture was right, absolutely correct. His balance was absolutely centered, his movements precise down to the twitch of a finger. But it felt so _fragile_. Like at any moment that surety would break, and he could crumble or collapse.

No wonder Uncle gave him a hard time about rooting, whatever that meant for a Fire person. Earth had to be pretty unyielding, but there were limits to control. Find the fault lines, follow gravity. Basics.

What did he think he was doing?

“Should we tell the General you’re eating out here?” Shiya asked after a few moments.

She felt Zuko shrug, nothing casual about the gesture. “That—No. He can come out here to eat, if he wants. But we’ll wait.”

Missing meals was a no go for Toph most days. It was something to do, she had limited options to stay fit but she used them and needed the strength, and coming late to a meal was a disaster she’d only fumbled into once. Even more than Zuko’s almost frigid anger and Uncle’s morose disappointment, Toph had been bothered by the food itself. It didn’t keep nice forever, and on the ship there was no way to make it last, or really refresh it once it hit the table. Reheat, yes. Plenty of fire for that. But it wasn’t the same. Yuzu had to keep a very careful balance given their limited supplies.

She debated getting up, or insisting they eat out here.

But the earth her arms held, pressed up against her stomach, filled an ache she hadn’t realized she was feeling. It soothed a gnawing that she’d only partially acknowledged when she’d been trapped on that ship.

They were going to make her go back.

Toph wasn’t sure she could.

* * *

The idea of breakfast was a distant memory when Toph came back to herself. She could still feel Zuko nearby, his subtle shifts as he watched the slopes that swung up and away from them. Still stiff as a bartering merchant.

Toph could have told him there was no need to worry. The island they had found was maybe twice the size, around and long, and their ship. She could feel animals and insects as vibrating hums in some places, the faintest hint of the scratch of birds. Further than she would have expected for that one. Her earthsense was still off, but she was getting used to it, more quickly than she would have thought. And her range on noticing details had almost doubled.

Huh, who knew Fire Nation steel was a good challenge for a blind earthbender.

Stillness was part of being an earthbender, and spirits knew she’d missed it, but it was time to move. Toph wriggled, and Zuko’s attention snapped to her, his breath catching slightly.

Good grief, she’d been taking a nap. She wasn’t dead.

And her brain, comfortably rested and still, finally had enough traction to throw together the hints that had been rolling around in her head on the water. A first wife, not many ways to get rid of those. Zuko and Uncle’s reactions—everyone’s reactions—to hints and death jokes and…

Okay, maybe Toph could try for fewer death jokes.

“There’s no one coming,” she said, and felt Zuko startle. “It’s only animals on the island. Not even big ones.”

She squirmed out of her pile of earth, shaking like a badgermole and feeling the excess slip down, more or less back to where it came from. Standing was a slow process, she didn’t want to let go of this, but she was running out of time. Might already be out. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sleeping.

She was cleaning up the hole she’d made when Zuko said, “How do you know that?”

It was half accusation, some flecks of curiosity, and something like resignation. Toph dusted her hands off, then started combing through her hair, partly getting bits out, partly locking them in. She tapped a toe, pretty sure he could see it. “Earth catches vibrations, especially when things move. I know you’re not quite two arm’s lengths behind me, we’ve got at least six people near the ship at the waterline, and two more up on the hills, keeping a lookout.” She paused before she added, “There’s a bug on your boot.”

Zuko startled again, and she felt him look down, kick his foot, shift his balance. “It’s an earthbending skill,” he said. “Uncle never mentioned anything like it.”

Toph knew a few people who understood the concept instinctually enough, but they’d always described it as earth that was theirs that they could feel other benders trying to take. Which was part of it, but not the most useful part. “I don’t know very many benders that do it.” Not human ones anyway. “I guess most of them don’t feel like they need it.”

He rocked slightly as he thought. “You use it to get around your blindness.”

It made her grimace, but he wouldn’t see that. She wasn’t facing him and didn’t want him to see. “I use my earthbending instead of my eyes, yeah.”

There was a long pause before Zuko asked, “But it works on the ship?”

“On yours,” Toph admitted. “Sort of.” Better than she would have guessed.

He was shifting now, from foot to foot. “Not on your father’s?”

There was a cautious hesitance to the question, but Toph just nodded. She wasn’t afraid, she was here, not there. “I guess steel is more like earth than wood. Go figure.”

She was mostly able to keep it dry and snappy. She may have wobbled a bit at the end though. Zuko ignored it, though she wasn’t sure if that was courtesy or abject terror at _feelings_. “So you can sort of see on the ship?”

“I’ve been adjusting.” The ground was put back together, she was as put together as she could manage. She half turned, and before he could ask anything else slipped in, “Are we leaving soon? Or do I have more time here?”

More shifting, and then, “You have more time. Not…less than an hour. Maybe half.”

“Alright,” Toph said, working her feet into the ground, wiggling her toes until she felt earth squishing between them. “Let me know when we go.”

She could feel him stiffen at the dismissal, could sense that he wasn’t leaving. But he did eventually take a few steps back when she started flexing her toes and tilting her feet back and forth, the ground moving in undulating ripples towards his feet. Big baby. She wasn’t even getting started yet. Just testing the ground, feeling how it moved, how it responded.

Everyone she could see jumped when she slammed her foot down for the first time, the shockwave mild, but reaching even the watchers on the hills.

She still had it.

Nothing too tricky, nothing to complicated. Shouldn’t show her full hand, and besides, this earth was different. Not so much sliding as crumbling. So it was more effort and focus to make walls, keep them in straight lines, precise angles. Not the most efficient, but that wasn’t what this was about. It was testing her limits. Seeing how far she could still push herself.

Even when she wasn’t facing a proper opponent.

Up, forward, back, down. Walls, thins pillars, thick pillars. Lines perpendicular to the sky, at angles. She misjudged and hit the hills a couple of times, which was annoying. The distances reached her differently through the earth. She was still compensating for the warping of the ship.

In what felt like no time at all, Jian left his post by the ship, came up to Zuko, bowed, and said something. Toph was still moving earth, but she knew what this meant. If she could just do one last thing…

“Toph,” Zuko called out to her.

She paused, arms up in the air, two circles suspended at waist height above the ground. “Yeah?”

“It’s time to go.”

“Alright, one second.”

She put the earth back, smoothed out the lines she had made, paused, breathed as deeply as she could and _listened_. The animals and bugs were further away from her now, things were quieter. But the general shape and feel of the island remained unchanged. Nothing felt like she’d prematurely dislodged it, even with all the seismic activity she’d been causing.

Good. Humans were awful, but the animals hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t need to make their homes collapse underneath them after she left. It had been scary enough when the baby badgermoles had done it to themselves, on accident, missing fault lines and moving more dirt than they had to, squealing and thrashing until one of their parents came and found them.

The sense memory of that panic made Toph swallow.

Letting her breath out, Toph turned back toward the ship. She didn’t start walking until Zuko did, didn’t set foot on the ship until everyone else was ahead of her.

Except Shiya, because the lady was stubborn, and Toph could respect that.

That didn’t make it any easier watching the ship get lifted back up, feeling the hull pull away from the water’s edge. Toph shuddered, then stormed off to the tower.

Hopefully Uncle had saved her something for lunch.

* * *

“Did you see that?” Private Yan demanded.

“Quiet,” Mao ordered, sweeping the komodo rhino’s stalls, making sure to check around the beasts to catch anyone who might be hiding.

The stop wasn’t planned. No one else had passed by. But never again. She’d sworn never again.

“But did you _see_ that?” Yan was almost begging. “Did you feel it? I thought we were going to sink. I though—“

“The princess is an earthbender,” Mao said, moving crates and gesturing for Yan to help her. “We knew that.”

“She’s _blind_ ,” Yan complained.

He was a nervous man. It was how he had ended up on the prince’s ship to begin with. Mao didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, but she could pity him. His brothers had faced Earth Army benders and most of them had died from it. “Do you need to see to use your bending?” she asked, cupping a flame in her hand and making sure to check in the deepest shadows. “Can you make a flame when you close your eyes?”

He seemed to relax for a moment before he started fidgeting again. “But she made _shapes_.”

Mao hummed, but she wasn’t really interested in having this conversation with Yan. She’d much rather have it with the general. Or the prince. Or even the princess.

But she knew she wouldn’t be getting straight answers from any of them. She only knew one thing. “She’s married into our side.”

“Like that _means_ anything,” Yan whined.

Mao’s head snapped up and she’d crossed over and grabbed him by the shirt before he could blink. “It means she’s your _princess_ ,” Mao hissed. “And you better damn well do your job and protect her, understood?”

He flailed a bit, then nodded, and, thankfully, went silently back to work.

But Mao caught his muttered, “But what if the heir is an _earthbender_?” as she left him when they’d finished their sweep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The speculation and notes in the comments has been lots of fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to my [tumblr](https://this-acuteneurosis.tumblr.com/).


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